


Taming of The Beast

by ReaderRose



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gaster Blaster (Undertale), Angst, Badster, Brother Feels, Brotherly Angst, Gaster Blaster Papyrus, Gasterblaster AU, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Mind Control, Papyrus Has Issues, Papyrus Knows More Than He Lets On, Past Child Abuse, Protective Sans, Sans Has Issues, Transformation, Unethical Experimentation, W. D. Gaster Being An Asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:45:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderRose/pseuds/ReaderRose
Summary: Gasterblaster AU“002 - cease.”Until it started happening, Sans had forgotten.





	Taming of The Beast

**Author's Note:**

> This was another over-long Tumblr ficlet. For some reason I don't post these in Libabry.

**_“002 - cease.”_ **

 

Until it started happening, Sans had forgotten.

 

It was a part of his mind that he’d forcibly tried to erase, lock out, lock away, like a bad dream that happened to someone else. The universe had obliged and conspired with him on this one little thing, this one single time. When the Doctor fell, it became so easy to forget. The memories were lighter and looser, the things that he had broken were almost repaired. Sans wished he remembered even less than that. Everyone else had been blessed to forget entirely that such a monster had ever existed. 

He’d always found it odd that Papyrus didn’t remember. There was no difference between them (no difference but  _ one _ , forgotten until now). He’d tried to ask once, just to be sure the remaining memories were not delusions, but all he’d received from Papyrus was a blank stare in return and the subject was dropped and forgotten. Literally. It was like he’d never asked anything at all.

But maybe Sans had been wrong about Papyrus’s memory, because it was that same blank stare that graced his face, now. Somehow, even on a skull far larger and so unnatural, that emptiness was clear and distinct. It was like Papyrus wasn’t there anymore.

Maybe he wasn’t.

The beast that had once been his brother stood erect and unflinching. Just moments before, it had been in a panic. Blind. Destructive. Unreasoning. The coffee table was in splinters. The couch would finally need to be replaced. No excuses, now. Sans had tried to calm him. Nothing worked, not Papyrus’s name, not Sans’s voice. Sans had been desperate, so he tried the only thing he knew  _ did _ work: the Doctor’s commands.

Papyrus had instantly obeyed, body going rigid and still, all signs of panic (and emotion) draining away. Now the beast was staring at him… and through him. 

Sans was at a loss for what to do. He, too, was able to transform, but it was difficult for him. Painful. He always still felt like himself in that form, just a mutilated version of himself.  Every part of him wanted to change back. It was difficult, borderline impossible, to maintain. He’d never been good with it, and he never wanted to be. This had been different. Once Papyrus’s transformation began, nothing stopped or slowed it. Papyrus screamed and thrashed but nothing held back, and it took but a moment for his size to double, his normally high and nasal voice to screech and deepen into snarls. 

It hurt to watch. It hurt more to remember. 

This was not new. 

This had happened before.

Somehow he’d forgotten how the Doctor had changed the formula after Sans’s own “failures.” Somehow he’d forgotten the way that Papyrus had been dragged to The Room, crying and screaming and kicking his two little legs as hard as he could, usually so calm and docile but terrified of what the Doctor had promised. Somehow he’d forgotten how Papyrus didn’t come back, but a strange, mindless creature in his place, padding along obediently on all fours in perfect time with the one who had done this to him.

Somehow he’d forgotten that Papyrus hadn’t come back at all until after the Doctor was gone. And now the thing that wasn’t Papyrus anymore watched with empty sockets that should have never been so familiar, patiently awaiting its next command.

Sans hoped this moment would be able to pass from his mind as well, somehow. If he had a stomach, he would be sick to it. He was conscious of his stance, conscious of his posture. Should he act like the doctor? Would that help? Issue more commands? Try to order the beast to go away and his brother to come back? Sans had the Doctor’s eyes and the doctor’s voice and if he didn’t force a slouch, the Doctor’s strides. He  _ was _ the doctor, or at least part of him. That was probably why it worked. That was why it would continue to work. 

The beast stared, blank as ever. There had been a time in his life when he’d known that stare better than he knew his brother’s smile or his brother’s voice.  Now Sans regretted how easy it had been to lock the memories away. Maybe, had he remembered, he could have devoted his time to curing them both. He hadn't wanted to think about it. He hadn’t needed it. 

Papyrus did.

He decided to try his own way, first. There was no danger, no panic, no need to try shouting orders and designations at something that was meant to be his brother. So Sans reached out and began to pet the beast’s nuzzle, hesitating only for a moment. The beast did not pull away, and that was the best Sans was hoping for. He pet along his brother’s skull, shushing him like he had when they were younger, before all this, before the Doctor had fallen, before the Doctor had tried to take Papyrus away forever.

“i’m here, and i ain’t goin anywhere, okay? i’m here.”

Sans whispered encouragements and reassurances for the rest of the evening, never leaving the beast’s side. He didn’t know if those words could reach him, but he hoped they would. They were for Sans, too. A mantra. It would be okay. They would get through this. They’d survived the doctor before. They’d won before. This was just a bump, an inconvenience. That’s all.

“you’re still the coolest, bro. nothin is ever gonna change that.”

  
  
  


Sans fell asleep like that, leaning against his brother’s muzzle for support, still patting him as he drifted into unconsciousness. He dreamt of a childhood previously forgotten.

Each moment remembered was dark and terrifying, but he was never alone.

  
  
  


He awoke hours later, on the couch, in the middle of the night, curled up beneath a soft blanket. The dreams had ended but he was still not alone. Papyrus sat upright at his feet, normal size, expression scrunched and miserable and wonderfully lucid. He wasn’t looking well. Neither was Sans. It was still great. 

The taller brother noticed he’d stirred and looked over, not meeting his eye. “I’d somehow forgotten about that.” Papyrus never whispered, not even now, but he came close.

Sans wasn’t sure what to say,, and he was honestly worried Papyrus might still be too shakey to hug as tightly as he wanted, so instead he sat up and motioned for Papyrus to join him at his side under the blankets, and Papyrus complied, leaning into him.

After a long silence, Sans asked what he needed to, though not because he wanted to. “what happened, bro?”

Papyrus winced and cleared his throat he did not have, a nervous habit neither of them were sure why they picked up. “I-I-I W-WAS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT MY SPECIAL ATTACK. BUT… THAT HAPPENED. ONCE IT STARTED I COULDN’T STOP AND… UM.” 

Sans knew the rest.

“I THINK I N-NEED MORE PRACTICE.”

Sans started, jolting the entire couch from the makeshift support Papyrus had put in place to temporarily offset the damaged legs. “practice!? pap you just--”

“I NEED TO LEARN!” he interrupted, expression a mix of frustration and panic that inspired more of the same in Sans. “I WON’T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER! IF YOU WON’T HELP, I’LL LEARN ALONE. MAYBE I CAN ASK--”   


“don’t ask anyone,” Sans snapped before slumping his shoulders in resignation. Papyrus never reacted well when he felt powerless or out of control. Of course he needed to tackle this. Of course. Sans could stop a beast with a single command, but he could not stop his brother. He was slowly realizing he didn’t want to. “we’ll figure this out together.”

“THANK YOU. TOMORROW. AND… I HAVE QUESTIONS. A LOT OF QUESTIONS… I NEED YOU TO ANSWER THEM.”

  
Sans wished that somehow this could all just be forgotten, from laboratory to living room, but things never really seemed to work out like he wished. He would just have to face it, or more correctly:  _ they  _ would just have to face it, because no matter how bleak the nightmare, Sans was never alone.

 


End file.
